


Uplifting

by OriginalUsername



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: And Kravitz falls in love with the elevator he uses to get between floors, Bookstore and Coffee Shop AU, Hi this is cursed content, Kravitz works in a bookstore and Taako works in a coffee shop, Other, Slow Burn, also every character and every ship will be here eventually just give it time, the writer's discord is full of enablers and well here's my story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-13 05:34:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13563945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OriginalUsername/pseuds/OriginalUsername
Summary: Kravitz works in a bookstore and Taako works in a coffee shop upstairs. Kravitz falls in love with the elevator.-Kravsy AU





	1. Your Lifting Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I love Taakitz but this is Crack World and here, Kravitz dates elevators. I am the ruler of my own kingdom and I will defend this castle until my death.

Kravitz watches as the hour hand of his watch clicks onto 11. He’s been at work for no more than a few hours but he’s already starting to crash as midday slowly crawls into view.

It’s a quiet day at the Miller’s Mall of Tomorrow, a glistening testament to technology and progress. Each store is brightly lit with energy-saving bulbs and decorated with sleek modern designs. Lucas Miller had designed the mall to be as much of a tourist attraction as it was a shopping center, intended to lure visitors from miles around to view the high-tech and innovative complex.

His plan worked, for the most part. Curious families visited to waltz through the displays for the Elevator of Tomorrow and watch automated workers build their Subway sandwiches. But no amount of futuristic wonder could make a Tuesday morning shift at all exciting.

Kravitz works in Barnes & Noble, one of the only stores where the majority of employees are human. Tiny automated push-carts with handy attachments scoot about the store tending to stocks and keeping things tidy, but a number of living people work there as well. Test trials showed that customers preferred having more humans around in the bookstore; it keeps the atmosphere homey, and robots can’t give very good book recommendations anyway.

The other store that employs mostly humans is the Starbucks upstairs. The coffee making process is partially automated, but only the humans are able to handle some of the more complicated and customized orders. Robots aren’t always well-attuned to the human palate.

Kravitz checks his watch again. 11:04. He gives a sigh and leans his forehead into his palm. There’s no way he’s going to last another five hours without some caffeine. He leans over the counter of his central workstation.

“Hey, Barry?” he calls.

A round face pokes out from between the shelves in the Lifestyle section. “Yeah, Krav?”

“I’m going on a coffee run, do you want anything?”

Barry sets down some books he’d been holding and shoves his hands in his back pockets. Kravitz has no idea why their manager Raven lets him wear jeans to work. It’s not in the dress code. It’s never been in the dress code. “I’ll take whatever, actually. Unless they have Pumpkin Spice already? Is it back yet?”

“I actually have no clue,” Kravitz responds, exiting his work station and heading towards the elevator. Noelle is usually the one who does the coffee runs, but she’s taken the day off, and Kravitz is covering her shift. He makes a mental note to say no the next time she asks for a cover; the morning shift is torturously slow and there’s better things he could be doing in his spare time than sitting at the empty help station and spending money on coffee.

Barry gives a casual shrug as he takes Kravitz’s now-vacant seat at the help desk, putting his feet up on the internal shelves. “Like I said, I’m fine with anything. Oh, and um...say hi to Lup for me?”

Kravitz chuckles as he reaches the elevator, a sleek stainless steel affair meant to quickly take customers between the bookstore and the coffee shop in the blink of an eye. He presses the up button and turns to Barry as he waits for the car to arrive.

“When are you going to talk to her, Barry?”

“Absolutely never, Krav.” A light blush rises from his neck and across his cheeks.

The elevator car still hasn’t arrived yet. For such a fast and futuristic machine, it’s running incredibly slow today.

“I don’t know what you think stalling will accomplish. It’s obvious she likes you back, it wouldn’t be rude of you to ask her out.” He pushes the up button again, this time with more force.

“We’ve had friendly conversations in the employee lounge, that does _not_ constitute enough interaction for a date.”

Kravitz rolls his eyes and turns back to the dormant elevator, holding the button down with his palm.

Barry takes this opportunity to change the subject. “That thing was causing me issues yesterday, too. I think it’s busted. You know where the stairs are, right?”

Kravitz shakes his head. “I can’t take them anyway. The doctor said no stairs or strenuous activity for another two weeks.”

Barry has to bring up his hand to stifle a laugh. He had witnessed the disaster that was now known as The Rock Climbing Incident firsthand. Killian had invited them all to a free session at the Planet Fitness downstairs to test out their new Crystal Kingdom wall, built of imitation crystals and gems.

It was a disaster from the beginning. Taako had fallen while trying to execute a complicated stunt and stubbornly refused to get back up; he’d said he liked the view from down there, a statement he delivered with a wink in Kravitz’s direction. Killian got distracted eyeing her girlfriend perched victoriously at the top of the wall and lost her footing, hitting her head on the way down to the mat. Kravitz convinced Merle he could reach a nearby pink tourmaline hand-hold, and when Merle jumped and missed he vengefully pulled Kravitz down as he fell, resulting in a broken arm and a sprained knee, respectively.

“Yeah, ok,” Barry gets out between muffled laughs, “no stairs, then.”

Kravitz shoots him a glare, and the laughing stops. “It’s fine, I’ll just use the escalators by the food court.”

Barry stands up, placing his hands on the counter. “Wait - I have a better idea.”

Kravitz raises an eyebrow in question.

“Hear me out,” Barry starts. “They probably didn’t show you in the new-hire’s tour, but there’s a backup elevator in the employee lounge. It’s actually behind that big pile of stock we keep against the south wall.” A devious glint appears in Barry’s eyes as he points a finger at his co-worker. “I’ll pay for all the coffee _myself_ if you take that elevator.”

Kravitz turns to look toward the lounge, eyeing the closed door with suspicion. “Why the hell would you hide an elevator like that?”

“It’s _creepy_ dude. It’s one of Miller’s weirder inventions. It _talks_ .” Barry sits back down, leaning back with his hands behind his head. “I bet you the cost of a _second_ round of coffee that you won’t take it back down.”

“That’s a low blow, Bluejeans,” Kravitz says, already heading towards the employee lounge. If there’s one thing he can’t refuse, it’s a bet. He knows Barry knows this, too, which honestly makes it worse.

He opens the door and eyes the shelves lined with boxes of stock. He could claim pushing the shelves out of the way was too much exertion for his knee, he could get out of this easy.

Barry shouts from the desk, “Remember, I want Pumpkin Spice if they’ve got it!” a splitting grin on his smug face.

There’s no way in hell he’s backing down now.

* * *

Kravitz stands alone in the employee lounge, eyes cast upward at the machine before him.

He’d pushed the shelving units and miscellaneous boxes out the way, revealing a bright yellow elevator car that he can’t believe he’d never noticed. It’s stranger than any he’d ever seen before, even in this mechanical utopia of a shopping mall. The thing has eyes, one on each door, and a big red nose. An open mouth, full of perfectly shaped, brilliantly white teeth, smiles at him.

There is no call button, no visible way to request the car to come and the doors to open. Kravitz considers this, gazing into its dull eyes.

He’d closed the door of the lounge, not wanting to give Barry the satisfaction of seeing him carry out his silly bet. Now, he’s thankful for the privacy as he opens his mouth and takes in a cautious breath.

“Hello?”

Nothing happens.

He exhales sharply, eyes turned to the floor in a private show of embarrassment. Of course that didn’t work. What a silly idea. Though, Barry _had_ mentioned it could talk. He gazes up at the machine, cold and lifeless, and decides there was nothing to lose.

“I need to get to the second floor,” he announces. Nothing. He grits his teeth in determination, “I need to go up, please.”

“DID SOMEBODY SAY ‘UP’?!” The dull eyes light up from inside, blinking to life as the grinning teeth punctuate each word with a pulse of light. Kravitz takes a step back, stumbling up against the lounge’s long table.

“HEY KIDS, IT’S MR. UPSY, YOUR LIFTING FRIEND!”

Kravitz is dumbstruck, caught in the brilliant light of this machine and unable to speak, unable to _think._

“I HEARD A RUMOR THAT YOU NEED TO GET TO A DIFFERENT FLOOR THAN THE ONE YOU’RE ON NOW!”

The eyes regard him, unblinking and intense. Kravitz doesn’t know much, but he _does_ know that he doesn’t want to keep this ‘Mr. Upsy’ waiting. He pulls himself together as best he can. “Yes, uh - you heard correct.”

“WELL CLIMB ON INSIDE MY TUM-TUM, YOU GOOSE!” Mr. Upsy’s doors open wide to reveal a soft glistening interior, a large tongue resting on the floor of the car.

Kravitz considers declining. It looks like this elevator is going to _eat_ him, while there are perfectly good escalators by the food court. But then he thinks of Bluejean’s shit-eating grin, and the bet he’d so foolishly accepted. There’s no way he’s going to lose so easily.

Kravitz smooths his polo - completely in line with the dress code, unlike _somebody_ he knows - and enters the car. The tongue gives a little bounce to his step as he enters, but it’s incredibly strong and holds his weight soundly.

“MMMMM!” Mr. Upsy chimes, closing the doors. It’s comfortably bright inside as the eyes on the doors slide back into place and illuminate the interior of the car.

“Why is it so wet in here?” He didn't mind much, but he couldn't think of a reason not to ask.

“MMM WHY INDEED?” The creature’s exclamation is quite loud now that Kravitz is inside the car.

“Mr. Upsy, uh, sir, could you please not shout?”

“Oh! Sorry Dear, I’m Just Incredibly Excited! This Is Going To Be Such An Exciting Trip! Up Is My Favorite!”

Kravitz is glad that the request didn't upset Mr. Upsy. He next turns his attention to the interior of the doors. In lieu of an elevator button panel, there instead are two fleshy nodes.

Mr. Upsy must have noticed him staring. His mechanical eyelids lower just an inch. “Go On, Press My Buttons!”

Kravitz gingerly presses the topmost button. It’s soft.

“Oooh-hoo-hoo,” Mr. Upsy squeals, “That Tickles!”

The car begins to ascend. It’s incredibly slow. From the inside, he can see out through Mr. Upsy’s eyes and past the walls of the car.

“How’s Your Day Going?!”

Kravitz clears his throat, ignoring the feeling that the interior of the car is actually rather soothing. “It’s alright, I guess. I need to get some coffee from the Starbucks upstairs if I’m going to make it through my shift.”

“Wow! What A Great Reason To Go Up! I’ve Never Had Coffee Before!” The tongue underneath him shifts ever so slightly.

“Would, I mean would you-” he stutters. He can’t believe he’s about to ask this. He can’t _believe_ he’s going to ask this. “Would you like me to buy you a coffee?”

“Mmmm! How Forward Of You! I’d Love One! I’d Love Some Coffee In This Big Old Mouth Of Mine!”

Kravitz takes a moment to wonder at the unending enthusiasm of this elevator. Working in customer service and hanging around bored coworkers can make you forget sometimes about things like enthusiasm. He guesses that he admires this about Mr. Upsy.

Light starts to pour in as the car pulls up to the next floor. “Are You Gonna Make A Return Trip Anytime Soon?”

“I’d like a trip back down to the ground floor after I grab the coffee, if that’s alright with you?”

“Dang, Down’s My Least Favorite!”

He smothers a pang of disappointment that curiously rose from his chest. “I’ll have your coffee for you to try, right? Will that make the trip worth it?”

“Hey I Guess You’re Right!" The car becomes still as it settles on the second floor. "Well, We’re Here!”

The elevator doors slide open, and Kravitz’s view is obstructed by some sort of large paper covering over where the elevator sits in the wall.

“Hello?” he tries.

He hears a surprised scream, followed quickly by “What the fuck?!”

“Lup?” Kravitz asks.

“Kravitz?” Lup shouts.

“Upsy, Your Lifting Friend!” Mr. Upsy announces.

There’s a moment of silence before he hears a tight sigh and the sound of a chair scraping across the linoleum. “Krav what the fuck?”

“Seems you’ve already asked that one, Lu,” He responds cheekily, a bright light rushing into the car. A high corner of his view becomes unobstructed as Lup, standing on a chair, peels back whatever is covering the elevator.

“I get to ask it as many times as I want. Why the _fuck_ are you in this godforsaken elevator?”

Upsy chimes in, “God Only Forsook Me Because They Couldn’t Handle My Biting Wit And Seductive Charm!” Lup shoots a pleading look in Kravitz’s direction as she peels back the bottom corner of the covering.

“The main elevator’s been giving us trouble, and Barry wanted me to take Mr. Upsy instead of walking to the escalators.”

“We’re Friends Now Kravitz! You Can Just Call Me Upsy!”

Lup smacks her hand against her face. He hasn’t seen her this disappointed in anyone except her brother. “It’s calling you a friend now, Kravitz, you’ve doomed us all.”

The opening of the elevator is completely uncovered now, and he steps into the Starbucks employee lounge as Lup wads up the covering, which he can now see is a large poster detailing workplace hygiene and safety protocols.

He turns back around to look at Upsy. He’s closed his doors and is looking expectantly down at him.

“I’ll call you back when I need that trip down, ok?” he offers.

He shouts, “Ok Kravitz! Don’t Forget To Bring Me That Coffee! Anyway, Bye, I Love You!”, and then the lights in his eyes and mouth grow dim. The room is quiet.

Lup grabs his shoulders and turns him around.

  
“Seriously Krav, _what_ the _fuck_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey a lot of Upsy's dialogue was just straight quotes, and personally I find that more sinful than whatever I'm doing here.
> 
> This chapter was slightly longer than I plan the rest of them to be, but if people are going to read only one chapter and then run away from this fic in horror, it's gonna be a full chapter, goddammit.
> 
> Stay tuned - if you dare ;)


	2. Lattes and Literacy, part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kravitz deserves a nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for revisiting my play-house! Come play with me!

Kravitz hadn’t been able to explain. Lup had left her hands on his shoulders, eyes burning with the kind of incredulity that arises from seeing a grown man step out of the fleshy insides of a sentient elevator. Kravitz had wanted to try and smooth everything over, to offer an explanation that would de-escalate this entire situation, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. He’d accepted a bet and taken a ride in a strange but friendly elevator. That’s basically all there was, right? At that point, she knew about as much as he did.

Lup hadn’t seem pleased with his confused silence and took matters into her own hands, _literally_ , as she dragged him across the lounge and into the janitorial closet, shutting the door between them and Upsy.

Now, in this dark space, surrounded by mops and cleaning supplies on all sides, Lup lets out a sigh of relief. She puts her hands on his cheeks, squishing his face with irritation, forcing him to meet her burning eyes. Kravitz wonders if this is where he’ll die.

“Kravitz,” she whispers, shaking him gently. “You have exactly ten seconds to explain what the fuck is going on before I call in my brother and we bust out some moves and show that elevator how we do.” She twists her head and cracks her neck – yeah, she’s ready to rumble.

“Whoa, hey now, don’t get too worked up about this,” he whispers back, fighting past the lisp brought on by Lup’s hands, putting up his own as a sign of peace. “It’s an elevator, you don’t need to _attack_ it.”

“‘Don’t get too worked up’?” she parrots louder, absolutely getting worked up. Oh lord, Kravitz fucked up with that one.

“I’ve been working here for years now and it hasn’t made a _peep_ since we got it all covered up.” Her voice rises in pitch and volume, swelling with snowballing rage. “We thought we’d conquered  it: mall employees one, Hellevator big ol’ zero,” she proclaims, curling her hand in a ‘big ‘ol zero’ to demonstrate. “Do you know how hard it is to barricade a living elevator? It was _arguing_ with us about it, it was– it was like burying someone alive, and now we’ve gotta do that shit again? Nuh-uh dude, _you’re_ on poster duty this time,” she hisses, giving him a little push away for emphasis.

Finally free, Kravitz brings a hand up against a sore cheek. “Jesus Lup, don’t you think that’s rather...cruel?” Kravitz pushes on despite the look of warning Lup gives him. “It...Upsy...is, alive? Sentient, at least? Don’t you think it’s cruel to hide him away like that? To barricade him behind stocks and cover him up behind posters? Frankly I can’t believe...I mean, where’s that altruism and love for humanity you’ve always got, Lup?”

“Love for humanity?!” she screeches. “It’s an _elevator_ , Kravitz!”

He gapes, shocked at the outburst. He never intended this to get so strangely out of hand. Lup brings her arms back down to her sides, surprised to see they’d lifted into the air in passion, and slides down to the floor with a groan. Kravitz, unsure of exactly what’s going on and whether or not he should apologize, follows her. They sit there for a while, knee to knee on the floor of the janitor’s closet, and try and figure out what the fuck is going on. Lup knocks her knee against his before taking a deep breath.

“Perhaps,” she starts. She tries again, “Perhaps we were all a little, _scared_ , at first, and – we overreacted.” She thumbs a loose thread on the hem of her apron. “You know how Taako gets around elevators. Maybe we lost our heads a little too quickly.” She tugs the thread, and it snaps free between her fingers. “I suppose we could see how it goes letting it...hang out? I guess? Maybe it’s the right thing to do,” she decides, sighing and getting to her feet. “I’m gonna go grab Taako and we’ll figure out-”

“ _Wait!_ ” Kravitz jumps up so quickly that he knocks over a broom, which manages to hit both of them before clattering to the ground. “ _Shit_ , sorry, but, could you please not tell Taako?”

“Kravitz he uses the break room. He’s gonna see that thing sooner or later, and when he does, he’s gonna flip his lid.”

“Right, he’s _definitely_ going to find out,” Kravitz reasons, “but you don’t need to tell him...everything? Lup, I think this’ll go much smoother if we keep some of this to ourselves, yeah?”

She folds her arms, tense and defensive. “What, you want me to lie to my brother? Say I have no clue why the poster is down and the Hellevator is awake and you’re taking it for joyrides?”

Kravitz rubs his temples, frustration edging into his voice. “No no, don’t lie to him, dear god, I wouldn’t ask you to do that. Just...you know how he gets.”

Lup raises an amused eyebrow, and Kravitz sighs and grits his teeth. She’s not making this easy.

“You know, Taako likes to...tease. Make goofs. A _lot_ , actually.” Lup laughs and Kravitz struggles to stay on track.  “Look I’m ok with it, usually. It’s how he is. It can be _fun_ , even. But this whole thing is really weird right now, and I don’t want to give him any more fodder than he already has.”

“You’re a pansy, you mean?” she asks, laughter pulling the tension out of her shoulders.

“Sure, I’m a pansy, call it that if you want. Just don’t tell him anything too...incriminating. I trust you can have some discretion about this? For _my_ sake, if nothing else?”

The typical mischievous glint returns to her eyes, her tense posture melted away in their heat. “Yeah sure, babe, I can do that,” she says, perhaps a little too amenably. She cracks open the door to scope out the lounge – still empty – and turns back to Kravitz. “Fine. _You_ deal with the fallout of my brother’s elevator phobia, and _I_ won’t tell him that it asked for coffee and then said it loved you. Gotcha,” she winks. She swings the door wide open and struts out of the closet, a satisfied grin dancing across her lips.

Kravitz buries his face in his hands, a desperate groan filling his palms. “Yeah, just like that. Thanks, Lup.”

 

* * *

 

Lup pushes Kravitz through the lounge exit, opening into the prep area behind the main service counter. Kravitz has been in the Starbucks countless times, both before _and_ after his employment at the mall, but it’s never seemed to lose the gleaming beauty it had on opening day.

The sitting area is an assortment of cozy tables and chairs pushed against the dark wood-grain walls. The color of cream fills the room, emerging from posts and flower pots and spilling across the ground as clean, sweet-looking tile. It’s comfortable and soothing; it feels like being submerged in a decadent cup of coffee.

Then there’s the prep area, neatly arranged with gentle-looking machinery the color of whipped cream. They loop in and out, overlapping and passing through one another in a whimsical show of automated efficiency, yet each one has enough open space to allow a worker to safely and easily pluck out a coffee from anywhere in the line, in case a more human touch is needed.

It’s no wonder then that when the two of them push into this warm and inviting place, Kravitz is immediately taken by it’s ambiance, and the subtle smell of coffee drifting through the air. He almost forgets all about the quarrel with Lup and the uncertainty of Upsy’s fate, but he’s reminded of it all when he spots Taako lounging on the service counter, applying a coat of blue polish to his ring-adorned fingers.

“Y’all smoochin’ back there?” Taako asks disinterestedly, swiping the brush across his pinky.

“Isn’t nail polish prohibited in food service?” Kravitz asks.

Taako makes a show of rolling his eyes and blowing on his hand, “Glad to see you’re still a stickler for the rules, Krav. Nice polo.”

“It’s my _uniform_ , Taako, because _I_ adhere to the dress code.” His words are bitter but his tone is soft – arguing with Taako is never an actual argument.

“Not like you’re doing much better, ko” Lup spars, eyeing her brother’s uniform.

Taako hops down from the counter and flourishes a hand across his torso, indicating several adornments he’s added to his uniform, including a scarf, a slim belt, and numerous pieces of jewelry. “I look like a fucking _star_ in this garbage polo,” he asserts, flipping his long braid over his shoulder. “It’s all in the accessorizing, hon’.”

“Whatever you say, doofus. I hope _stars_ are good at making coffee cause Kravitz has got some orders,” she says, pulling a stool out from under the counter.

“Of course, I’m always ready to take orders from Kravitz,” he says with a wink. He taps on a computer on the service counter and a few nearby machines give off gentle beeping and whirring noises, waking up for the first time since closing last night.

Taako looks to him expectantly and Kravitz realizes this is about to get awkward as hell. He’s suddenly faced with the impossible task of ordering three coffees – for him, Barry, and…Upsy – when it’s a known fact that there’s currently no more than two human employees at any store in this mall. There’s no way to pretend he’s bringing all three coffees back down to the Barnes & Noble. He could claim that he’s bringing the third coffee to a coworker in a different store, but he has no clue who’s scheduled today. It wouldn’t work anyway; Taako’s been here much longer than he has, and probably knows everyone’s shift rotations and coffee orders by heart.

He could try...telling the truth? _The coffee is for Upsy, because we are now friends, and I spend money on him because he says he’s never had coffee before and for some reason I sort of feel bad for him? And actively advocated for his release from Poster Prison?”_

No. Fucking _no_.

He steals a desperate glance at Lup who’s no doubt aware of his plight. Her amused grin – combined with her leaning the stool back on two legs, casually reclining against the back counter – shows she’s in no hurry to lend a hand right now. That’s what he gets for asking her silence, it seems. She won’t spill the beans, but she sure as hell won’t dig him out of his mess, either.

It’ll be fine. If he just delivers the order with enough nonchalance, everything should be _fine_. Taako won’t notice anything suspicious _at all_.

“Yeah so uh, I’ll take something with peppermint, and uh, a regular black coffee, and– oh, Pumpkin Spice? Have you got it yet?”

“Pumpkin Spice?” Lup asks, suddenly interested, dropping the stool back to all fours.

Taako starts pressing some options on the screen, and Kravitz hears a machine gurgle somewhere behind him. “We don’t have that one yet,” Taako says, eyes focused on the screen, “poor Barry’s gonna have to make do with the regular junk that we serve here.”

“I’m on it,” Lup says, jumping off the stool and retying her apron.

“Yeah no shit,” Taako mutters, barely audible. His finger hovers over the screen before he looks back up to Kravitz. “Krav my man, like, what sizes are these?”

“Oh,” Kravitz reels. He can never remember how the sizes work here, “L..large? Big? The biggest one?” he tries with a hopeful smile, handing over some cash.

“It’s _Venti_ , my dude,” he chastises, flashing a smile back. He finishes inputting the order and hands Kravitz the change and a receipt before leaning on the back counter with ease as the machinery around him whirs and putters. “So who’s the black for? Julia doesn’t work on Tuesdays.”

Well shit.

Think fast.

“Um, uh, it’s. It’s for me. It’s mine. I’m uh, I’m very tired.”

Taako eyes him suspiciously. “You’re tired enough for two large coffees, my dude?” he questions.

“Yeah I uh, I didn’t get much sleep last night,” Kravitz tries.

“Mmm,” Taako purs, tilting his head onto his shoulder, “didn’t get much sleep? What was it that was keeping you up so late at night, hmm?” He waggles his eyebrows at Kravitz, making the message clear.

Kravitz really hadn’t thought this through. He’d thought none of this through. He feels a flustered blush rise on his cheeks, rejoicing that his complexion keeps it hidden, and his mind blanks on the thousands of plausible excuses he could be using instead of just standing there like a deer in headlights. Is ‘ _I was practicing my accents’_ a plausible excuse?

“Taako, leave the boy alone,” Lup throws over her shoulder as she stirs a drink by hand. Kravitz has never been more relieved, and takes a deep calming breath. They’d agreed he would have to handle the Upsy stuff around Taako; she had no obligation to step in and save him from certain irredeemable embarrassment. But thank god she did. That’s twice today she’s shown him mercy - she must be feeling generous.

“Yeah ok,” Taako sputters, “sure, says the girl who’s crafting a special _hand-made_ coffee for her total _not_ -crush,” Taako volleys back in exasperation. “In fact, why don’t we – uh – why don’t we _dissect_ that a bit, shall we?”

“Oh my god Taako, not here,” she groans, sprinkling powder into the steaming cup.

“You see!” he turns to Kravitz with a shout, hands in the air, “She admits it! Sh-she’s got heart eyes for Barold motherfucking _Bluejeans,_ and she doesn’t do jack _shit_ about it.”

“Taako you _lunatic_ , he’s a friend, he’s fun to hang out with, and he definitely doesn’t like me back.”

“He absolutely likes you back,” Kravitz deadpans. This is the third time they’ve done this this month. “I literally just had this conversation with him downstairs.”

Taako snatches two lids and moves to a shimmying machine. “Krav, tell that nerd to make a _move_ or something already, I can’t take anymore of this fucking pining.”

“Please dear god can we talk about anything else,” she pleads, “literally anything else in the world.” She’s carefully piping whipped cream across the surface of the coffee.

“I mean, I should probably grab those coffees and get going before some real customers show up, right?” Kravitz asks. A glance out the window shows that the mall is as empty as it’s been all morning, but he’s running out of time for his break from work, and he’s also running out of energy for keeping up with the twins’ shenanigans. He loves them dearly and they’re a joy to be around – that said, it’s been a long day and it’s not even lunchtime yet _and he still hasn't gotten any goddamn caffeine._

Taako retrieves a cup from a tiny conveyor belt and pops a lid on the top. Kravitz can smell the peppermint. “Homie, let me tell you a little something about the morning shift: no one gives a shit about Future Malls before noon,” he says, snapping a lid on the second cup of coffee and presenting them to Kravitz in a disposable tray. “Besides, business is gonna be pretty slow until the construction in the east parking lot clears out.”

“Construction? Is it bad?” Kravitz hadn’t noticed, then again, he doesn't use the east parking lot.

“Not as bad as it’s _gonna_ get,” Lup says, handing him a warm cup with _‘Barold’_ neatly printed on the side in sharpie. “The mall’s gonna be undergoing some pretty neat reconstruction in the next few months, but it’s gonna be a pain in the ass for sure.” She’s moved to the sink, thoroughly washing her hands. Now _that’s_ an employee that knows how to follow protocol.

Taako scoffs. “I don’t know what you’re thinkin’, Lulu, it’s gonna be _great_. Getting paid for doing diddly-squat is chaboy’s _dream_ job.” Lup flicks her wet hands at him and he retaliates by throwing a fistful of straws.

Kravitz groans, barely audible over the twins’ aggressive laughter. “Doing ‘diddly-squat’ is my personal hell. I hardly believe I’ll make it through the morning shift.”

Lup turns the water back on and starts reaching for the retractable hose. Kravitz nopes out of the service area so hard it’s miraculous he doesn’t spill the coffee.

The last thing he hears as he escapes into the employee lounge is the tell-tale hiss of the hose spraying at point-blank range, and an embarrassingly high pitched shriek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? There was like no cursed content here at all! Just laughs, arguments in broom closets, and good times with friends.
> 
> There were supposed to be two more scenes this chapter but I split "Lattes and Literacy" into two parts because 6k is too big a chapter imo, and editing it all would have prolonged the update by too long.
> 
> I have exams this next week but I wanna push out part 2 pretty quick cause I've got an Upsy itch that needs some gooooood scratchin'! So keep your eyes peeled and your doors locked, cause part 1 was the calm before the storm....the Upsy storm!


	3. Lattes and Literacy, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So does this count as a coffee date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi remember how I wanted this out a few days early for Valentine's day but instead it's a week late? Exams are hard and so is writing so here's a heavy plot and background filled 4k chapter so we can move on from the exposition and get into the juicy fun stuff.

Kravitz once again stands alone in an empty employee’s lounge with a dormant Upsy. The drinks are warm in his hands and he hears Barry’s voice,  _“I bet you the cost of a second round of coffee that you won’t take it back down.”_

Maybe Kravitz should take that as advice. What should have been a strange but simple elevator ride has actually left him confused and filled with unanswered questions. There’s something here he’s not getting, something he doesn’t know.

It’s like Upsy is a puzzle. But there’s a piece missing, maybe a  _few_ pieces, and it’s frustrating. He’s never been satisfied with incomplete stories—the relief of the full picture is why books are so rewarding. In a book, you know what mystery you’re solving, what treasures you seek to uncover. But this isn’t a book, and Kravitz is lost. He’s  _new,_  he’s only been here a handful of months, there’s still so much he doesn’t know. He can’t even be sure that he  _wants_ to know.

It’s not too late to call this all off. It’s not too late to tape up the poster, take an escalator back down to the Barnes & Noble, and push the stocks back into place. Cover this whole thing up, figuratively  _and_ literally.

He could forget this even happened. He could tell Barry he was right, tell Lup not to worry. He could take the extra coffee to another store, a distant coworker, maybe make a new friend in the process. It’s the most sensible option.

Yet he opens his mouth and says, “Upsy? I’d like that trip down, now.”

Maybe it’s because he’s foolish. Maybe it’s because he’s curious. Maybe it’s because it’s amazing how something so unique and strange could be tossed aside like useless trash. Maybe it’s the way an elevator, a machine built to serve, left to the dust and the mice, can nevertheless be overflowing with enthusiasm when called into action. Maybe it’s the way he so quickly accepted Kravitz as a friend, wanted to know how his day was going, what a coffee tasted like.

Upsy’s lights flash once, twice, then settle on a bright glow. His eyebrows raise in surprise as he declares, “Wow Kid, That Was A Long Trip! I Thought You Wouldn’t Be Coming Back!”

Kravitz smiles; he’s done the right thing. “I’d said I’d call, didn’t I?” He gestures with the coffee tray, “I brought your coffee, too.”

“How Thoughtful Of You!” he says, eyes flickering with excitement. “You Know The Drill—Get Inside My Belly!”

His face slides open and Kravitz doesn’t hesitate this time to step inside. The doors close and he pushes the down button, beginning their descent.

“Mmmm, What A Pleasant Aroma!” Upsy is speaking at a comfortable volume, like he remembers Kravitz’s request and is trying not to shout too loud. That’s incredibly considerate of him.

“I’m glad you like it, that’s a good sign. I got you a regular black, you can see how it tastes and we’ll go from there?”

“Sounds Like A Plan, Kid! Go On, Gimme A Taste!” Kravitz tilts ever so slightly as the tongue beneath him shifts with anticipation.

He considers the coffee in his hands, glancing at Upsy’s face, then to the ground below. How is this going to work, exactly? Cracking open the lid, he lowers himself to the ground, taking care not to aggravate his bad knee. He looks to Upsy for confirmation, and finds the bright eyes are trained on him eagerly.

“Well then, here goes nothing.”

He slowly pours the coffee out of the cup, towards the back of Upsy’s mouth where the gentle downward slope would prevent it from splashing his shoes. The bright lights of Upsy’s face and interior dim into a soft amber glow, and Upsy makes a gentle pleased hum as the warm drink hits his tongue.

The coffee settles there, pooling and swirling before starting to...foam? All around him, Kravitz can see a light, sudsy substance emerging from the bottom of the car; it’s frothy and delicate and it rises around his feet like a bubble bath. The smell of the coffee intensifies and fills the air, thick and smooth, wholly enveloping the small space. Kravitz has a brief moment of fear, but it’s quickly calmed by the foam’s gentle tickle against his cautiously extended palm.

The foam settles, dissolving into nothing, and reveals the drink to be gone. Stealing a hopeful look at Upsy’s face shows his large eyes closed with delight, grin pressed closed in bliss. Kravitz can’t help but split a grin too, marveling in the brilliant insanity of it all.

“That Was A Delight!” Upsy cheers, “A Grade-A Concoction Of Bean Juice!” His lights have gradually brightened again, returning to their clear and comfortable shine.

What just happened shouldn’t be possible. This...machine, or creature, whatever he is...can taste coffee? Can consume it and savor it’s flavor? Kravitz snorts with laughter, swept up in wonder. “You’re really something, aren’t you?” he marvels. “I mean, you’re so much more than an elevator.”

Upsy doesn’t seems to mind the comment, and in fact appears rather delighted by Kravitz noticing. “That’s Right! I May Be Metal On The Outside, But On The Inside I’m A Real Living Boy!”

“What an incredible thing,” he muses, thinking out loud as his mind tries to catch up. “And Lucas Miller  _made_ you?” The question burns him, fueled by the curiosities worming around his insides.

Did Lucas program a machine and equip it with incredibly organic internal structures? That seems too complicated for even Lucas to manage. Could it be as he was beginning to suspect? Could Upsy be...truly  _alive_?

Upsy’s lights tint slightly, shifting toward a darker, redder hue. “I Am an Attraction for Lucas’s Mall, but He Holds no Power or Ownership over Me” Upsy states, tone falling flat. “No Human Can Call Himself my Creator,” he asserts.

Kravitz is taken aback by this shift in tone—Upsy has been nothing but excited and joyful until now. He doesn’t want to push it, it would be such a shame to make Upsy upset, but his curiosity still burns and he can’t stop himself.

"If you’re an attraction, why are you all the way back here?”

Upsy is quiet. The grin has fallen off of his face. Kravitz simmers in the silence, fearing that he’s hurt Upsy’s feelings.

He’s pained at the thought.

...Why?

When did he start caring how Upsy feels?

It's all been such a blur: Barry’s nonchalant dare, Lup’s hotheaded opposition yielding to compromise, the looming dread of informing Taako, the fear of how all the other employees are going to react.

But now, as Kravitz stands in Upsy, halfway between the first and second floor, it all starts to click into place.

Upsy has been tossed aside. Rejected. The poor creature must have been so lonely for so long until Kravitz woke him up, reminded him what it’s like to be used and appreciated. It’s only been a trip and a half and Kravitz has already tried so hard to keep Upsy happy and optimistic. He feels sorry for him, thinks he deserves better, and he’s taken it into his own hands to do so.

Kravitz has always been considerate, accommodating, however you call it: he’s a “sap” according to Lup, a “pushover” according to Taako, a “really good guy” according to Barry, “ _emotionally_   _magnanimous_ ” according to Lucretia. Whatever words you use, Kravitz wants everybody to be happy and comfortable, sometimes at his own expense, if he’s being honest.

And that doesn’t stop here, apparently. It doesn’t stop at friends, coworkers,  _or even humans, apparently._ Kravitz has a heart full of compassion and chivalry and it seems that it knows no bounds.

So it’s in this space—this slightly damp space—that he squares up and makes a decision. He decides that no matter what, he wants Upsy to be happy. He wants to _make_  Upsy happy. He hadn’t intended for any of this—to wake Upsy up and to set him free—but at the least, he owes it to him to make his newfound consciousness worth it.

And that starts now.

“Hey uh,” he stammers quietly. “Don’t um, don’t worry about it. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. It was wrong of me to pry.”

The lights brighten once again, slipping out of that dark angry hue. “Th-Thank You Kravitz,” Upsy says, tone rebounding already, “I’m Sorry I Ruined The Mood, But You Know How It Goes...Bad Blood And All!”

Kravitz is dying to question what the hell could cause Upsy to have  _bad blood_ with  _anyone,_ but the elevator is beginning to fill with the light of the Barnes & Noble employee lounge. He only has a few moments left.

“We’re Almost There!” Upsy says, his face lifting into a cautious grin once again. “Thanks For Taking Me Up Kravitz! Up Is My Favorite! Down Is My Least Favorite But The Coffee Was Scrumptious So I’ll Forgive You For It!”

The familiar jovial tone fills Kravitz’s body with relief.

There’s a gentle ding as Upsy comes to rest on the ground floor. Kravitz doesn’t want to get out.

He shifts his weight hesitantly, staying put, ignoring the sight of the lounge through Upsy’s eyes. “I’ll try to bring you another one sometime, if that’s alright with you?”

Upsy laughs. It’s booming and Kravitz rocks slightly as the tongue beneath him jostles with the force of it. The cheery noise bounces around the car, and he can’t help but laugh too because he can feel it vibrating deep in his chest like his own heartbeat. It’s hearty and genuine and though he doesn’t know how Upsy could produce such a sound, Kravitz wishes he could hear it more often.

“I’d Prefer It Sooner Rather Than Later, It Gets Lonely Back Here All Alone! Turns Out Boxes Of Books Are Terrible Company!” he jokes.

“Well, not if you actually _read_  them,” Kravitz asserts lightly. “Don’t test me Upsy, I don’t tolerate book-bashing.”

“Nonsense!” Upsy cries, “I Can’t Read! Books Have No Value To Me!”

Kravitz gasps, displaying more genuine shock than he intended.

After all, it’s not just convenience or chance that he works at a bookstore. His employment at Barnes & Noble was a goal secured by his friends who worked their  _asses_ off to get his paperwork through to the right people. Hell, Taako’s close relationship with the Starbucks manager Istus was the only reason Raven even  _considered_  hiring Kravitz for the already over-employed bookstore.

It was a complicated scheme for everyone involved—the lot of them banding together for him—and they did it without hesitation, all because  _Kravitz fucking loves books_. Sure he’s a music major, but everyone needs a hobby, or according to Taako, a mild obsession. His apartment has more square feet dedicated to books than actual furniture, and even after Lucretia got him a Kindle for his birthday, he has yet to pare down his collection to a reasonable size.

He’d lost his beloved job at his favorite local bookstore when the owners sold the building, and it was a huge blow to all areas of his life. The Astral Page had been close to campus and paid well and by working there he was doing what he loved.

It was when he broke the disheartening news to his friends that he was swept up into a crushing bearhug by an impassioned Magnus, who announced to the entire Starbucks that no one would rest until Kravitz was wearing a nametag and hideous polo in the Barnes & Noble downstairs.

And goddamn, somehow, it worked.

Sure, it isn’t as cozy as that mom ‘n pop bookstore, but now he once again spends his days surrounded by the smell of ink and paper, and, this time, more friends than he can keep track of. For this, Kravitz is eternally grateful.

He chews his lip, looking into Upsy’s face. The thought of such an isolated creature forsaking the company of a good book fills Kravitz with displeasure.

“Upsy,” he begins, “I find that stance to be wholly unacceptable. As a Barnes & Noble employee and a lifelong book enthusiast, it is my  _duty_  to convince you of the wonders of reading.” His mind is already racing with possible recommendations, rifling through his personal library, pulling his favorite books out of shelves and off of countertops.

“Unless You Read The Books To Me Yourself, Your Efforts Will Be Futile And Wasted, Kid! Mine Eyes Cannot Comprehend Written Language!”

“That may just be what I have to do, then,” Kravitz asserts, still blazing with noble purpose. “I read during my breaks, I c-can call you down and ...uh, well...you could listen. I could read and you could listen. If you’d like.” His proposition stutters to a stop as his heart picks up speed.

“No Harm In Trying, Book Boy! There’s Nothing Else For Me To Do Back Here Anyways! I Could Use The Company!”

Upsy dings for a second time, laughably similar to a neglected microwave, and he begrudgingly opens his doors.

“I guess I will, then,” Kravitz says as he exits the car. The doors slide shut behind him and he feels the chill of the employee lounge hit his skin. He hadn’t realized Upsy was so warm.

“Sounds Like a Date, Book Boy!”

“Please don’t start calling me Book Boy.”

“Ok, Kravitz!” he chuckles, “Come Back Soon! I Miss You Already!”

His lights dim, and Kravitz heads for the exit of the lounge, trying to calm the rapid thumping in his chest.

 

* * *

 

“ _Barry goddamn Bluejeans do you know what you’ve done_?”

Kravitz pushes the door open with maybe a little too much force. It swings wide, hitting the door jamb on the wall and sending a metallic buzz through the empty Barnes & Noble.

Barry’s not at the service desk.

He has to be somewhere in the store, he’s too responsible to leave it unattended. He could be hiding, which makes a lot of sense considering Kravitz’s rising need for confrontation. Barry likely expected Kravitz would be in  _some_  sort of mild frenzy, which...well that might be fair, because Kravitz  _does_  need to share some words with him.  _Now._

There’s still no response so he sets the coffee tray onto the desk without breaking stride, already heading to the back of the store. He’ll search through every line of shelves if that’s what it takes to find that denim-clad fiend.

“Barry I’m serious, you’ve really done me in, this time.” There’s a shuffling sound nearby; he gives a cursory glance at the Kids Corner before checking down the adjacent Study Aids & Test Prep area. No dice.“Lup nearly killed me and Taako’s going to hate me and I think the  _elevator_ is  _flirting_ with me.” He hears a muffled whisper coming from his right, so he rounds the corner to check Nursing & Medicine and—

Barry is there.

And so is a customer.

The woman looks...horrified, to be frank. She and Barry are both holding a couple of books, obviously interrupted in their attempt to search through the materials. Kravitz feels every drop of blood drain from his face and immediately regrets his yelling. He regrets  _a lot_ of things that have happened today.

Barry coughs uncomfortably and, cringing deeply, gestures awkwardly with the book he’s holding.

“Yeah uh this is my coworker Kravitz. He’s having a rough day. Anyway, uhh that— yeah that one should have the references you need.”

The woman smooths the edge of her headscarf, discomfort clearly written across her face. “Yes, well thank you,” she says to Barry, handing the book back graciously. She turns to Kravitz, eyeing him warily. “And...good luck? It sounds like you might need it,” she concludes, before hurriedly maneuvering out of the shelves and—most likely—as far away from this situation as possible

The doors chime with her exit and Barry releases a tense breath before turning to Kravitz, appearing incredibly cross and disappointed. He only manages to hold it for a few seconds before breaking into laughter.

“It’s not funny,” Kravitz asserts.

“It really was, buddy,” he snickers, “do you have any idea how ridiculous you sounded?”

“It’s  _not_ funny,” he repeats through his embarrassed smile.

 _“ 'I think the elevator is flirting with me!’_ ” Barry guffaws, bending over double, supporting his weight on the sturdy shelves.

Kravitz begrudgingly lets out a small chuckle. Followed by another. Followed by a rather strong, genuine laugh.

Barry’s hand is pressed against his stomach, like he’s trying to hold his laughter down. “She was our first customer all day!” he cries, taking off his glasses to wipe at his eyes. “We were just minding our own business, and then you come storming in…” The sentence peters off as he visibly attempts to pull himself back together, replacing the glasses and running and hand through his hair. “Oh god, you have to tell me what happened.”

“Yeah wouldn’t  _you_ like know,” Kravitz teases as Barry starts re-shelving the books he and the woman had been looking over. “What exactly were you hoping to accomplish sending me up in Upsy? Hmm?” he prods. “Did you  _want_ Lup to yell at me in a broom closet? Was this all some sort of elaborate revenge plot?”

Barry gives him a look of what was probably meant to be genuine apology, but it’s swallowed up by his amused grin. “Absolutely not, I promise, I figured she’d be over the whole thing by now.” He slides the last book into place and gives a friendly punch to Kravitz’s shoulder. “I just knew you’d be the only one stubborn enough to get in, and polite enough not to insult it.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, “it seems like I’m the only person who isn’t loudly opposed to him,” Kravitz notes. He and Barry walk together back towards the help desk, guided by the smell of their waiting coffees. “I’m going to need you to give me some backstory here Barry. You owe me.”

“Oh gee Krav, I’m not sure where to start,” Barry says, “By the time I was hired, the decision to cover him up had been made. I wasn’t even here for the big event, I just came in one day and it was done.”

“But why? Whose decision was it?”

“It’s hard to say. Lucretia and the twins had been hired on the mall’s first employment sweep, so they’d been here a few weeks longer than anyone else, which is probably why they were the most vocal about it.”

They stop at the desk, and Barry plucks his labeled coffee out of the tray, cupping the warmth in his hands as he leans on the counter. “But I don’t think it was any one person’s decision. Sure Taako made a big deal about it, but that’s nothing new,” he says with a smile, and Kravitz rolls his eyes at the thought. “I think it was just a lot for them to handle on a new job like this, and when Lucretia got the idea to put him to sleep, Lup was itching for any plan she could get her hands on. I think maybe everyone got a little carried away.”

Kravitz grabs his coffee, too. It still steaming and he blows into it gently, the peppermint wafting tantalizingly into the air. “Is that really what happened? It put him to sleep?”

“Well like I said I wasn’t here when they got it tucked away. By the time I showed up it would just take to shouting at me every once in a while,” he recounts, taking the lid off his steaming cup. “But he quieted down pretty quickly, and eventually his lights stopped coming on. I don’t know what he did, or what that existentially  _means_ for an elevator, but...I’ll admit it was a relief.”

“Well then I hope you aren’t mad at me too,” Kravitz confesses. “Because he’s awake now and I’m pretty determined to keep it that way. I think we’ve done him wrong and I couldn’t live with myself if we put him back.”

“This whole thing is technically my fault,” Barry grins, “so I’m in no place to judge.” His gaze drifts downward and he's momentarily silent.

He points to the empty cup still sitting in the tray.

“Kravitz," he pleads.

"Kravitz please. Please don’t tell me…”

“...that was for Upsy,” Kravitz admits sheepishly.

"How...?" Barry gapes, mouth opening and closing without sound, before finally giving up, kneading between his eyes. "You know what? I don't want to know." He straightens his glasses and points a finger at Kravitz. "And I retract my previous statement, I’m _absolutely_ in a place to judge.” 

He delivers on the statement by giving Kravitz a glare positively dripping with judgement, but he drops the subject for now,  _thank goodness_ , and blows once more across the surface of the drink before finally taking a sip.

Kravitz looks down at his own coffee, realizing that even though he hasn’t yet drank any, he can still feel his heart racing. How long has it been beating like this?

“Oh boy,” Barry hums into his cup, “this is so much better than Pumpkin Spice.”

“Good,” Kravitz says, desperately trying to be professional and not tease his coworker. “Because  _Lup_ made it  _special_ , by hand,  _just for you_ ,” he concludes, failing miserably.

Barry puts the cup down before crossing his arms. “Y’know what Krav? I don’t think you get to tease me about Lup anymore, considering you claim that you’ve been flirting with  _an elevator_.”

“Barry this elevator is sentient and has spent years secluded alone. I have no doubt that it’s simply excited and lonely, and thankful that I’ve let it free.” He takes a sip of his coffee to prove that he’s being completely rational and is in no way still filled with the tumultuous cadence of his own runaway heartbeat. The peppermint is shockingly cool against the coffee’s heat. “Besides, he doesn’t have much to go on if his only socialization has come from Lucas Miller and a few weeks of Taako’s dramatics and Lup’s zealous yelling.”

“Well, them and Garfield,” Barry corrects.

Garfield.

Garfield?

Kravitz has heard the name before, but he can’t place why or when.

“You know, Mr. Garfield?” Barry asks. The cue is completely unhelpful, of course, so Kravitz simply shakes his head in defeat, taking another sip from his coffee.

Barry continues, “I don’t know all the specifics but he was credited as a huge contributor to the construction of the mall; apparently Lucas had a lot of ideas but not a lot of logistic know-how. From what I’ve heard, Garfield invested pretty early on and annexed portions of the project into his own company."

"So he and Lucas were pretty close business partners for a while, and he dealt with all the nitty-gritty details, y’know like blueprints and safety checks and quality control, all the mundane things that Lucas probably didn’t have the attention span for.”

“It was a pretty big deal in the papers, Garfield actually led Lucas on a tour of the mall after it opened. Miller was so struck by the beauty of it all, his grand vision actually laid out in front of him like that, that he’s already started work on another location.”

Barry leans back off the counter with a stretch. “So yeah, Garfield definitely interacted with Upsy, for quality control if nothing else.”

Kravitz swirls his coffee in thought, feeling the liquid whirl against the cup. “What the hell kind of quality control approves  _Upsy_?” he wonders.

His words are answered by the tinny chime of the grandfather clock on the store’s northern wall. Kravitz and Barry sip their coffees in silence as they listen to it ring.

It’s 12:00.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey apparently 1 hour takes three chapters and around 9k words. It's fine, everything's fine, ignore that because OH BOY we're getting into some delicious territory~~


End file.
